


Seventeen

by ShineYunhyeong21



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: 3-shot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Flashback to 1945, Growing Old Together, Harsh Language, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Famous AU, Old Married Couple, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Period Typical Prejudice, Period-Typical Homophobia, Reminiscing, School Boy Yunhyeong, School Dances, Song Inspired, Talks of WW2 and the Korean War, Young Love, Young Soldier Hanbin, for the flashback, i think that's all, reunited after war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShineYunhyeong21/pseuds/ShineYunhyeong21
Summary: ' Promise you'll never changeAnd I'll always be the same.We'll be dancing the same grooveWhen we're 92, the same as 17. '- '17' by Pink Sweat$
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Song Yunhyeong
Kudos: 5





	1. When Hearts Collide...

**Author's Note:**

> Just passing by to drop some Yunbin in your lives while I work on the next update for If I Leave. 
> 
> I got the idea for this while lying in bed, reading, and this song had come on shuffle and the first thing I could think of was Yunbin. All my old story ideas that I never out to paper (or word doc) hitting me with this purposeful feeling. This'll be a 3-shot, the first two chapters will be in Yunhyeong's POV and the last chapter will be in Hanbin's POV. As you guys know, I can't write in 3rd person for shit, so I'm going to continue doing what I do ;p. The song is actually really good, so if you want to get a better feel for the story it would be wise to listen to the song on repeat (as that is what I did while writing this). 
> 
> *Was supposed to be a 3-shot, but I grew bored and never sought to finishing it. My bad.
> 
> So, enjoy these two old men reminiscing about the time they fell for each other. I'll try to knock this out in three days, so keep a look out for the updates and I'll see you guys around. Bye, guysssssss.

Morning had come once more as it did every day since I was born. It reminded me that I survived, that I made it to old age even with death looming over my head for an extensive amount of time. It reminded me that I lived my life to fullest and if it suddenly ended, then I could leave with a smile and no regrets.

A smile that would wait on the one that holds my heart. A grumpy old man with more problems than I could ever have, but I understood, and that left us to cling onto each other. The both of us waking in the light that basks us in the sun glory. A waking that continuously started each new chapter of our lives together. A waking that held our story within its beaming rays.

Shuffling my slipper covered feet across the wooden floors, I entered the kitchen, my wrinkled hands immediately fixing coffee as to not hear the grumbling voice of the other this early. And once the pot was brewing in this new aged machine, I slowly bent down to turn on the little robot cleaner that had become a blessing in disguise. My joints ache and bones cracked, my energy in my youth catching up with me in ways that I never would have expected, it slowing me down considerably once I hit 86 years of age. Though, it doesn’t stop me from embarrassing my nieces and nephews whenever my sister visits and starts a little family function.

With a soft chuckle on my old lips, I opened the fridge pulling out a few things to make the same breakfast that I’ve been making since we’ve moved in together. The other liking it more than he’d ever let on. A constant in our lives that keep us grounded in ways we never realized until we had gotten to this point in our lives. It’s nice. This life we’ve lived could have been nicer, though now, it’s as nice as it can ever get.

“Yunhyeong?” Slowing down my knife, the other slowly peeked around the corner with one eye open as if truly bothered by the sunlight. “I thought we talked about opening all these damn blinds first thing in the morning?”

“Oh, shut up, you’re the same one complaining when the electricity bill is more than normal.” He tsked, slouched figure turning and disappearing back down the hall from which he came.

He reappeared when breakfast was done, his plate of food and cup of coffee greeting him at the table. I sat in the seat next to him knowing that he needed me in close space to feel comfortable enough to eat. Instead of coffee, I had brewed myself a quick cup of tea having disowned the thoughts of drinking coffee over two decades ago.

“My sister sent me a message about visiting or some shit like that in about a week with her little family of idiots.” Humming, I nodded long over laughing or chiding him for his use of distasteful language.

“It’s getting warmer, now, should we bring out the grill?”

“And fuck up my back again? Hell no! Those idiots can eat out or whatever you decided to cook.”

“You act as if she isn’t a good decade behind us, not to mention her kids like to cook, so you don’t have to worry about your back. It isn’t like you use it much anyways.” He coughed in surprise, my hand coming out to pat at his back as I don’t need him kicking the bucket before me.

Breakfast continued in our usual banter, his worn body grabbing the dishes and taking them to the sink to be washed. Another constant in our lives since moving in together. It’s just grand that I don’t have to tell him anymore – well, after 70 years, I would hope he wouldn’t have to be asked anymore.

Leaving him to the dishes, I made my way into the living room, opening the blinds and turning on the radio. The stuff from a few nights ago still sprawled over the coffee table as neither of us were down to cleaning it up. Nieces, nephews, great-nieces and nephews asking a million and one questions about our youth as they flipped through old photo albums. Majority of the pictures inside being in black and white, showing our youthful smiles and bright eyes.

I can’t say I don’t miss those days as they led me to where I am right now, but those days were treacherous to say the most. And though times have changed, there is still much from them that is rather undesirable and headache inducing. But, I – we – made it through in one piece and that is all I could ever be thankful for.

“What station is this again?” The other entering and flopping down in his forever chair took my eyes away from the mess on the table, ears straining to hear the music.

“I don’t know. It’s some Korean station that the kids managed to hook up, why?”

“I remember this song, I think.” This old man and his memory – it led to countless debates that proved me to be right on each occasion except for one.

Going back over to the radio, I squinted trying hard to read the tiny letters that glowed in blue light, “I should get my glasses.” Turning to him, he stared at me in a rather empty way that I’ve gotten more than used to, “Want me to turn it up?”

A grunt was all I got in return, so moving the dial, the notches jumped up a few, the room filling with the haunting voice of an individual long since gone. Sighing, I shuffled my way back over to the couch, the back of it hitting my knees as I lowered myself down into its worn softness. The material giving under my slowly lightening weight and creaking as I got comfortable.

“AH! I remember, now, it was 1945 and I had come back from war. We were at a dance, or something like that – it was under Japanese supervision, right?” Digging in my brain for the memory, I couldn’t stop the small smile as I caught sight of a photo taken on that night in particular.

He stood next to me, uniform still on, as I semi-squatted against a broken shelf left out to the side of the building. I had leftover tears in my eyes, a huge smile to accompany them, while he carried the same smile with a cigarette between his lips. I can remember my surprise as the other showed, a dead rose tucked between his ear and cap as he sauntered towards me in a confidence I hadn’t remembered. If I remember correctly, it was in that moment that I realized a lot of things about myself – about us.

Good things. Scary things, though. Good, nonetheless.

“I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we never grew up in the same neighborhood. Never became friends, and never fell in love. I think I would be rather lonely on my own.” I thought about it continuously in the years that we’ve been together.

What would have happened if we never met? If he had chosen some girl over me? I mean, we’d probably stayed friends – for this long, who knows? But, like those like us back then, I would have either snuck around, keep to myself, or found myself thrown over a bridge. That’s one of the reasons why this life, that has brought me into this old age, is nice. It’s really nice.

“Friends? If I remember correctly, I was beating bullies asses for you! I was your protector, idiot.” I wanted to roll my eyes, but they dry out so easily nowadays and I don’t want to struggle with eye drops.

“So, we went from childhood friends, to protector and protected, to lovers? Hm?” Him being my protector and friend is basically the same thing and the fact that he thinks they’re too separate things is rather uncanny.

“We were never friends because I always liked you.” Laughing, I couldn’t stop myself as his words haven’t changed from the moment we both confessed.

“I forgot. I forgot.” He laughed in turn; hands knitted together in his lap as his eyes closed. “Any plans for today? I don’t think we really need anything around the home?”

“I retired over a decade ago to enjoy silence and the actions of doing nothing. So, of course we have nothing to do, Bun.” My heart picked up slightly at the pet name that he bestowed upon me in the most unromantic way one could think. “Uh, where’s Choco? Choco!”

It took a minute, but the sound of paws dragging against the floors soon brought the appearance of our old girl. Her fur lost its shine years ago, but it retained its length, a fluff of dark brown that made her even more loveable. She first went to Bin, allowing him to feel her as she brushed her way past him and next to me on the couch. Her head falling in my lap with a huff. He surely woke her from her sleep to cause such a reaction from her.

“Damn dog has never liked me since she was brought in this damn house. Should have gotten rid of her when we had the chance.” Petting her, I listened as the other grumbled and sulked about something he know isn’t true.

“Well, next time you need help finding something, leave her alone.”

“I knew I should have married that girl, especially since you’re never on my side.” A permanent smile stuck to my face as I continued to listen to him spout nonsense. “If I could take off this ring, I would throw it at you. Maybe Choco would like to wear it since you love her more than me.”

“Choco, your father is being a baby, again. I’m starting to think it’s the oldness catching up to him, what do you think? Yup, you’re right.” The glinting of gold on my finger had me cooing at the both of them.

Cause, I mean, really, who would have guessed?

The both of us marrying. Each other. Of course, it came when we were both wrinkled and sick of looking at each other all the time. We’ve been together, romantically, for 75 years and it’s only 5 years ago, did we submit sheets of paper that legally bonded us to one another. At 87 years old, we got married and every day has been the same as it was before we did it. I didn’t expect much to change – I don’t think he did either, specially with the way how he asked me. Stating it as if it was another thing to do and not something of importance.

I’ve had all my most important moments with him, so I suppose that over time it doesn’t hold the same excitement it once did? I don’t know, I’m not the old goof.

“If I said I didn’t want to come to the states with you, would you have stayed in Korea with me?” His small smirk gave me the same answer as it had the other hundred times I asked.

I just want to know, in case tomorrow is our last day together. Who knows?

“I would have fought the Korean War and another twenty if you wanted me to. I would have lived in a mud hut, if that’s what you wanted to do. So, leave me alone with that damn question, I hear it in my dreams.”

“I love you, Bin.”

“Mhm, love you too. Now, let me listen to the music, old man.”


	2. Trying to define...You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I try to define,   
> all the things you mean to me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're late...what else is new? Next part here tomorrow.

Spring of 1945

It’s finally here. Though, I don’t think I should be as excited as I am. Ma, wants me to stay home, but this is the only thing school has done in years, and I’ll be crazy to miss out on it.

I ran straight home from school, bypassing the same soldiers I saw every day. Their eyes empty and without sympathy as they watched me enter my home. It was rather obnoxious, my home that is, but with my father’s position in government and ties to the Japanese, there wasn’t any other option. Stopping at the postbox, I took the mail from within it, my fingers flicking through the whole stack in search for the one with my name on it.

I came to the end of the stack with a suck of my teeth. That dummy! I hope he didn’t get himself injured, or worse killed. He spoke of some crazy things in his last letter and I don’t think I’d be able to deal with such news.

“Nìsan, why are you blocking the path?” I almost jumped out of my skin; the voice of my sister rather close to my ear than one would deem likable. “Oh, you got the mail, thank you.”

She slipped the stack from my hands, her long pleated skirt jumping around her as she skipped her way towards the main house. I followed shortly after, my hat tucking itself under the arm which held my case.

Her voice could be heard from the door, as she rambled on to our mother at a million miles per second. It always made my head spin for the simple fact that she had so much to say for a young girl. Many of the girls in my grade had little to nothing much to say, and those that did – well, the punishment was rather heavy.

“Yunhyeong, would you care for something to eat?” The housekeeper caught me the moment I decided to ascend the stairs, her eyes roaming over me to check if I was okay.

Shaking my head, I gave her a small smile, “No, I am fine, Otetsudai-san.” With a nod of agreeance, I ran up the stairs, down the hall, and into my room as I needed to get ready.

The dance starts around six as we, all school aged children, have a curfew of nine on weekdays. And with, today being a Thursday, it left no room for any extra lounging. Placing my case on my desk, I headed to my bathroom knowing that I had to take a shower, the high heat around noon having caused me to sweat rather profoundly. I wiped myself down with water during our break – didn’t really do much, except get rid of whatever sweat was currently present. I should start bringing soap and smell goods with me. They can go in my cubby.

After my shower, that was filled with many unrelated thoughts, I got dressed in something simple and tasteful. My trousers pressed perfectly, white button up tucked and bellowed at my waist, and a pair of suspenders that rested uselessly at my sides. I unbuttoned the top two buttons to get some air onto my skin. It might be hot, or the situation might call for me to abandon the area, so it’s best to not drown myself in clothing. I’ll only end up looking like my old man, and I’d rather not.

Placing my watch back on, I checked the time to see that I had about an hour before I needed to be back at the school. I managed my time wisely, thankfully. Sitting at my desk, it needed to be organized before I left – I don’t care much for the house workers to touch my things, so I tended to do majority of their work myself. The papers from my letters found themselves in a drawer along with my pens and pencils. My case on the inside of my desk not wanting it to get caught up in the traffic of entering and exiting my room.

With my space mostly clean, I was ready to go. Like mt sister, I skipped my way down the steps of the stairs, an old childhood melody on my lips as I went.

“Son, calm yourself.” I was startled once more at the sight of our mother, her lean figure on its way past the bottom of the stairs. “Your body isn’t well.”

“Yes, mother.” Walking the rest of the way, she met me with a look of disdain, her hand reaching out to fix my hair.

“You look handsome. Is there someone you are trying to court?” A small look of horror passed over my features causing me to deny her claim with fervor. “Are the girls not to your liking?”

“There is no such thing as my liking, mother. They don’t seem to like me much is all. I think it has to do what the talks around father, but it doesn’t bother me much. I am just happy to get an education.” Her look of disdain turned to one of pity, but I ignored it – I don’t need it.

“Do not use too much of yourself and be home before the curfew. You need to take your medicine after dinner time.” Yes, I know, I know.

Leaving the house, I ventured back down the path I was came up, heading out of the gate and down the street back towards the school. The building itself wasn’t really all that far from the house, though I know many who would rather jump on a cart than walk the two blocks. Personally, I find it rather dangerous to do so, then again, I’m the one with the health problems and not those who do so.

As I headed further on my journey, my eyes racked the streets, ears blocking out any violence that took place around me. The screams had lessened over the years, people conforming to the rule that I’ve been under since birth. I never understood the reason for the rebellions, the hostility – well, that was until I met that idiot. Or more so, until he could speak more coherently and with conviction.

His tales of what had been done to his parents and grandparents at a time before we were born, had struck me as odd the first time I heard it. I mean, I’ve never heard any such stories from my own parents, but for him to have so many made it sound like a tale of some sort. I was proven wrong, though, his words speaking volumes to the crimes committed against the people who once owned this land. Not as if it matter at this point, everyone is being shipped out in rapid succession to fight a war that they have no part of.

Soldiers lined the streets heavier than they ever have before. The police long since losing their standing against guns and beatings. Father says that if those who hadn’t done wrong, only did what was expected of them, then there would be no reason for them to be beat or killed. As per usual, I had nothing to say against my father’s way of thinking. He has been like this for as long as I could remember – as long as mother could remember – so it left no room for argument or question.

“Aye, if it isn’t the son of the Song abode,” My eyes snapped up from my feet to see a high-ranking official standing in front of me, “is your father well?”

“He is sir.” He nodded, eyes taking over me in a way that many of these men have done before.

“That is good. That is good. Tell him, that we should sit and chat over tea soon. Your home is rather lovely.”

“I will let him know once I return home, sir. Now, if I may excuse myself, I am on my way to an event.” He laughed, hand patting and squeezing my shoulder before walking around me, his men one step behind him as they left me alone once more.

It makes me skin crawl. These grown men and how they look at my mother, sister, and I as objects to ogled at while in our father’s presences. We, my sister and I, took after our mother when it came to the biggest features on our faces; and with our mother being a beauty, it led to a lot of unwanted touches and looks. I couldn’t say anything in particular as father hated when boys whined, or anything of that sort. He always told me to take it, brush it off, and if worse comes to worse be prepared to kill the son of a gun. Not the greatest advice, one might say, but it worked for him, so it worked for me.

Reaching the school, it was already loud, students standing around chatting loudly in their Sunday’s best. The sight of it all making me forget what had just taken place and instead heading inside with the resolve to have fun. Well, as much fun that is allowed.

I got something to drink, going to stand off to the side as I had no one to really socialize with. Well, the only person I really talk to is in a whole different part of the world surrounded by death, or is dead – so, yeah, that leaves me with zero. Kicking my feet into the dirt, I looked up to the sky taking in how it has been darkening rather quickly nowadays. I wish the sun can stay out for a few more hours, then I would be content with the loneliness of this life.

“Yah, Japanese sympathizer!” Closing my eyes, I grumbled under my breath as I listened to the Korean words being thrown at me.

I turned ready to see which bully it was this time only to fall silent in shock, “W-Why are you here?”

He shrugged, uniform body making its way towards me in a light that I have never seen before. He’s grown since the last time I’ve seen him two years ago. It seemed like an illusion, really. But, the dead rose on his ear told me otherwise – he’s always been a little crazy in this way. At first I thought to jump him in a hug, but I shook away that idea not wanting to give ammo to those around me. I only had one more year before I’m out of here, and on my way to a higher education, hopefully.

“This shit blows. I can’t believe they would throw a dance and play this lame shit. I heard better music sung on the battlefield from dying soldiers.” Watching him talk, it was fascinating for the sole fact that the war isn’t over meaning that he shouldn’t be talking to me – in person – right now. “I know I got more handsome, but that doesn’t mean that you have stare, commie bastard.”

“Yah, Hanbin, what did I tell you about that language?! And, I’m not a sympathizer or commie bastard. Aren’t you the one who fought for them?” Pushing him away, he stumbled a little but came right back, arm thrown over my shoulder making us standing super close together.

“I did not fight for them, Yun. I was forced into battle for them, there is a difference, idiot.”

“That still doesn’t explain, why you’re here?” He had this unusual scar at his neck that made my stomach jolt in an uncomfortable way.

He shrugged, again, giving me some space to breath, but not letting go, “Like hell I know. One minute, I’m preparing to go onto the field and the next they’re kicking my ass on a boat to be sent back. They tell you to go out there and die for your country, only to send you back alive – contradicting bastards.”

“Look at the gay, speaking in that lowly language to an even lower human being.” My ears perked up at the sudden Japanese that came around us, it having not been here a minute ago.

I wanted to ignore it, but by the look of rage making itself onto Bin’s face, I knew it would be best to move him from the situation. I sometimes forget that his first language is Japanese like the rest of us, having been taught hangul while in our homes. He never speaks it unless necessary to do so, rather wanting to speak in his “mother tongue” oppose to the “enemy’s tongue”. I always thought it was his way rebelling against his parents, sadly that wasn’t that case, and this is the new him. Not as if I mind that much.

Moving us over to the snack table, I grabbed a few things making sure to not meet his eye, “So, you’ve been sitting back and allowing those dirty fuckers to speak to you like that?”

It was my turn to shrug. Getting violent would only get me in trouble, at home and school – I’d rather not deal with the mess of either. I got picked on for not going to war (as I’m sickly and it would do no good for me to put myself in harm’s way); I got picked on for never having a girlfriend. I get picked on for who my father is, even with all his power and standing; I get picked on and called names for a lot of stuff, so it rolls off of me now.

“Yun? Yunhyeong!” Jumping, the contents of my cup sloshed around, some even going as far as to fall onto the tips of my freshly polished shoes.

“Ignore it, Bin.” Finally looking at him, I saw his anger grow even more violent – this is why I never wrote to him about any of it. “Ignore it, please.”

“Ignore it? Ignore them treating you like shit for no reason? Let’s go.” Snatching my arm, he began to drag me from the festivities, a few eyes watching us in wonder of the man that I’m allowing to drag me away.

I tried to catch my footing, his grip having grown uncontrollably strong in the time that we’ve been without each other, “Wait, Bin, where are we going?”

He said nothing, continuing to drag us down the two blocks that I just walked. Passed my home and the soldiers, and only stopping once in front of his own gate. He pushed it open with more force than needed, the guards standing around staring at us to see what his next move was going to be. He slammed the gate closed with the same force. Up the path and around the back, he finally let me go, his mother looking up from her garden to greet us with a warm smile.

“You finally caught him, hm? Well, sit and I’ll have the housekeeper bring you two some tea.” I rushed a greeting and thanks into the same sentence, her smile never fading as she went inside.

“Why are we here?” He sat making me sit across from him on the porch, his leg pulled up to allow him to rest his elbow on it.

In the silence of his answer, I watched him. To be honest, my eyes never left him from the moment he showed himself to me. He was so different from the guy I knew all my life that it made me feel weird. Like my heart has been beating like crazy, and my stomach hurts, kind of weird. When did he get so handsome? Why do I care?

A small table of tea was sat between us, his head giving a sideways bow to the housekeeper that was kind enough to serve us, “Drink.”

“Aren’t you going to have some? It smells imported.” I took a deep waft of the fragrant leaves, humming as it was indeed important and of the best quality.

“Nah, I don’t drink that stuff anymore. It isn’t like it ever done me any good to begin with.” Not knowing what to say to that, I sipped my tea while he lit himself a cigarette, the dead rose finding itself on the ground as he removed his hat. “Do you like being weak? Letting them run over you? What’s the point of having a powerful father, if you aren’t going to use his connections to your advantage?”

“No, I don’t like being weak – I’m not weak nor do I allow them to run over me. I simply ignore things that are a waste of my time. I’m focused on my education and that’s really all at this moment, Bin. And, you know I don’t like to use my father like that, specially since he hates to hear me complain anyways. I’m my own person, and I thought we understood that at this point.” My cup clattered against the table, a heavy sigh falling from my lips as this wasn’t how this was supposed to be.

We aren’t supposed to be arguing the moment he returns home.

“Is that it? Because, I’m always the one saving you at the end of the day. A waste of time? So, I’m wasting my time is what you’re telling me? I should let you get beat up and spat on, so that you can carry on with your shitty commie education.”

“T-That’s not -,” He cut me off, smoking forcing itself through his nose and around the corners of his lips as he scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s not what? You clearly don’t need me or my help, so why the fuck are we even friends?”

“I do need you!” Slamming my fist on the wood, I took a moment to calm myself. “You’re all I really have outside of my family, Bin. I need you to be alive; I need you.” I started to cry, the weight of this life getting the best of me.

I was eloped in a hug. Something that he never did before, and it made my heartbeat even faster. He smelled of smoke, tobacco, and aftershave.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I let my anger get the best of me. You’re strong – way stronger than me, okay?” Nodding, I pushed myself from out of his arms not wanting to have a heart attack so soon.

I moved back from him, almost falling off the porch if not for the broken shelf that caught me. It made us both break out into laughter, the wetness in my eyes turning to those of joy at how silly this whole thing is. The flashing of a camera had us turning our heads to see his father had set up without us hearing, both too busy arguing and cry. I wiped my eyes, continuing to nod as he’s right, I am strong but not for the reasons he’s probably saying so.

“You have to be strong to live with a bunch of commie fuckers, Yun. I don’t know how you can speak that dreadful language all the time – it makes me ears hurt.”

“Whatever you say, Bin.” I said it in Japanese making him fall over, hands clutching his stomach and ears.

“AHHH, my stomach and brain cells. Where’s my gun?” Kicking his legs, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, again.

I hope this idiot never changes. I don’t know what I’d do if he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, the song they're talking about is called Wild Rose Flower by Baek Nana (1942). Here's a link if you want to listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXtTwBVFHfk 
> 
> I didn't get into much detail about it, but I know there are those who'll be curious, so why not?


End file.
